Gemotions

Bernard had spent decades crafting miniature ships, each tiny mast and rope a testament to his patience and skill. His son, Leo, now seemed to possess the same passion, but with a competitive edge that grated on Bernard's nerves. Leo's models were flashier, bigger, and always seemed to win the local contests. Bernard’s carefully constructed galleons now sat collecting dust.

“Dad, check out the new rigging I’m trying!” Leo announced, bursting into the workshop, a half-finished clipper ship in his hands. Bernard looked up from his current project, his fingers suddenly clumsy.

“That’s… quite something,” he managed, forcing a smile that felt brittle. Leo continued to talk, detailing his techniques, the speed with which he worked, the awards he’d already won.

Bernard watched him, a knot forming in his stomach. He focused on the wood in his hands, smoothing the surface with a sandpaper. The silence in the workshop felt thick and heavy, punctuated only by the scrape of the sandpaper and Leo's excited monologue.